The central bankers' central bank: a new banking crisis?

But should the BIS be listened to at all?

The Bank for International Settlements – the Swiss-based multinational institution which is known as "the central bankers' central bank" – has issued its 83rd annual report, which warns of the potentially massive implications of a spike in bond yields.

BIS argues that an increase in average yields of 300 basis points – 3 percentage points – would lead to losses on US Treasury bills of over $1trn, and it warns that such a big move can happen "relatively fast":

Someone must ultimately hold the interest rate risk. As foreign and domestic banks would be among those experiencing the losses, interest rate increases pose risks to the stability of the financial system if not executed with great care.

The warning fits into a narrative which began last week: that the US Federal Reserve's decision to "taper" its quantitative easing program will end the period of artificially low bond yields. There has certainly been a spike in yields: a 10-year UK gilt yields 2.48 per cent, compared to 1.90 a month ago, while 10-year US is up to 2.58 per cent from 2.01.

But the BIS has its scope set wider. The rises we've seen this month are merely the difference between "low" and "very low" cost of debt for solvent sovereigns; it doesn't yet change the overall story of the last thirty years, which is continued decline in yields.

Instead, as the Economist's Ryan Avent writes, to understand BIS's advice, we have to remember its background as an institution where the central bankers go to tell each other the myths on which their self-esteem rests. And key amongst those myths is the argument that interest rates – the key driver of monetary policy in most open economies – have been too low in recent years.

If interest rates have been too low, then bond yields are doubly depressed, first by QE and second by the low rates. It's easy to see how that belief spirals into warning of an inevitable spike in yields.

But, Avent points out, rates aren't low (or rather, too low) when they are low in absolute terms. Instead, we have to look at where they are compared to where they should be to encourage full employment. Given the deeply depressed economies in the developed world, it is almost certainly the case that interest rates at the level the Bank of England's 0.5 per cent are too high: that, rather than running the risk of causing the economy to overheat, they are dampening investment and growth.

There's a similar infestation of central-bank-ese in the BIS's treatment of sovereign debt, which Avent summarises as "Something something fiscal policy":

Central bankers have strong views on what governments ought to be doing with their budgets, many of which make most sense when given the least scrutiny. The BIS knows what it wants to say: that fiscal consolidation is almost universally necessary and the only real question is how to pursue it. Picking a path toward this argument that doesn't immediately cave in under the weight of self-contradiction proves to be a difficult task.

Paul Krugman is even harsher, writing that:

Part of what makes the report so awesome is the way that it trots out every discredited argument for austerity, with not a hint of acknowledgement that these arguments have been researched and refuted at length.

The BIS pulls the classic two-step of looking at problems from within the Eurozone – where sovereigns without central banks have seen massive explosions in debt and borrowing costs – and extrapolating that to non-Eurozone nations. In short, it's not moved on from the economic "debate" which occurred in the spring of 2010, over whether Britain was the next Greece. (In case you've missed this one: it's not.) But even within the Eurozone, the BIS analysis is problematic, demanding massive deleveraging in countries which are already struggling to cut what spending they can. It fails to acknowledge the first rule of Eurozone budgets: if you are trying to cut debt/GDP ratios, it's more important in the current economic climate to keep growth up than it is to cut government spending.

BIS goes one step still, though. It calls for mass private sector deleveraging at the same time, inveighing against general balance sheet overhang. Quite apart from the fact that it's tricky for all sectors of the economy to deleverage at the same time – someone has to buy the debt – there's that whole paradox of thrift thing which we've known about for a little over three hundred years.

"If the world is lucky," writes Avent, "central bankers will discount the recommendations of the BIS." If the world was lucky, there'd have been better recommendations in the first place.

A woman cycles past the Bank for International Settlements in Basel, Switzerland.

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Harriet Harman: “Theresa May is a woman, but she is no sister”

The former deputy leader of the Labour Party urged women to unite across the divided party.

The day-long women's conference is usually the friendliest place at Labour party conference. Not only does it have a creche and a very clear emphasis on accessibility, but everybody who attends starts from a place of fundamental agreement before the sessions have even begun. For that reason, it's often ignored by political hacks in search of a juicy splits story (especially since it takes place on Saturday, before the "real" conference action really gets underway). But with the party divided and the abuse of women on and off social media a big concern, there was a lot to say.

This year, kick off was delayed because of the announcement of Jeremy Corbyn's victory in the leadership election. The cheer for the renewed leader in the packed women's conference hall was far bigger than that in the main hall, although not everybody was clapping. After a sombre tribute to the murdered Labour MP and former chair of the Labour Women's Network Jo Cox, Harriet Harman took to the stage.

As a long-time campaigner for women's rights, veteran MP and former deputy leader of the Labour Party, Harman is always popular with women's conference - even if her position on the current leadership and her status as a former Blairite minister places her out of sync with some of the audience. Rather than merely introducing the first speaker as the agenda suggested, Harman took the opportunity to make a coded dig at Corbyn by doing a little opposition of her own.

"Theresa May is a woman, but she is no sister," she declared, going on to describe the way that May, as shadow spokesperson for women and equalities under William Hague, had been a "drag anchor" on Harman's own efforts to enact pro-women reforms while Labour were in government. The Thatcher comparison for May is ubiquitous already, but Harman made it specific, saying that like Thatcher, Theresa May is a woman prime minister who is no friend to women.

Harman then turned her attention to internal Labour party affairs, reassuring the assembled women that a divided party didn't have to mean that no advances could be made. She gestured towards the turmoil in Labour in the 1980s, saying that "no matter what positions women were taking elsewhere in the party, we worked together for progress". Her intervention chimes with the recent moves by high profile former frontbenchers like Chuka Umunna and Yvette Cooper to seek select committee positions, and Andy Burnham's campaign to become mayor of Greater Manchester.

Harman's message to women's conference was clear: the time for opposition to Corbyn is over now - we have to live with this leadership, but we can't let the equalities legacy of the Blair years be subsumed in the meantime. She ended by saying that "we have many leaders in the Labour party," pointing to Jess Phillips, the chair of the women's PLP, and Angela Rayner, shadow minister for education, women and equalities. Like Burnham, Cooper et al, Harman has clearly decided that Corbyn can't be unseated, so ways must be found to work around him.

Rayner followed Harman onto the stage. As one of Corbyn's shadow ministerial team, Rayner is far from in agreement with Harman on everything, and rather than speak about any specific policy aims, she addressed women's conference on the subject of her personal journey to the front bench. She described how her mother was "born on the largest council estate in Europe and was one of twelve children" and "never felt loved and didn’t know how to love, because hugs, cuddles and any signs of affection just wasn’t the norm". She went on to say "mum won't mind me saying this - to this day she cannot read and write". Her mother was in the audience, attending her first Labour conference.

As a former care worker who became a mother herself when she was just 16, Rayner is a rarity at the top of Labour politics. She told the Guardian in 2012 that she is used to being underestimated because of her youth, her gender and her northern accent: "I'm a pretty young woman, lots of red hair, and everyone expects me to be stupid when I walk into a meeting for the first time. I'm not stupid and most people know that now, but I still like to be underestimated because it gives me an edge. It gives me a bit of stealth."

The mass shadow cabinet resignations in June propelled Rayner to the top sooner than an MP only elected in 2015 might have expected, and she has yet to really prove her mettle on the grind of parliamentary opposition and policy detail. But if Labour is ever to win back the seats in the north where Ukip and Brexit are now strong, it's the likes of Rayner that will do it. As Harriet Harman herself shows, the women and equalities brief is a good place to start - for even in turbulent, divided times for Labour, women's conference is still a place where people can find common ground.

Caroline Crampton is assistant editor of the New Statesman.